


Seeking Out the Champion

by Dammit_Hawke



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Fluff, eventual smut in later chapter, goddamn setup, this was supposed to be a drabble but, what i really wanted will be in ch 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dammit_Hawke/pseuds/Dammit_Hawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Left behind while the Inquisitor foils the the game at the Winter Palace, Cassandra finds herself in the company of her Hawke.</p><p>Hawke, for one, sees a great need for Cassandra to simply find a way to rest. Perhaps she can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking Out the Champion

The Harold’s Rest is quiet, nearly empty. Cassandra can hear the Iron Bull snoring in his usual chair while his Chargers, Krem and Dalish, debate even attempting to move the mountain of a man.

 

In another lifetime Cassandra might shoo them off, or offer a word of advice. But the mug of ale in front of her is only half drained and thoroughly demanding her attention. It’s a good distraction, she guesses. Usually she’d be at the Inquisitor’s side about now, on the road and camping out. Staying behind feels a useless waste.

 

Not that she envied where Lavellen was headed, this time.

 

The door of the tavern opens with a creek as Cassandra’s lost in thought, the muted thump of it closing barely reaching her ears. She’s so absorbed in her ale, she barely notices when someone slides in to the seat beside her. It’s only when they clear their throat that she’s jostled from her own thoughts.

 

“Didn’t take you as the sort to drink alone, Seeker,” Hawke says, eye boring into her. “Specially not in the middle of the night.”

 

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Cassandra tries not to look at her, tries not to let her embarrassment show.

 

“This about being left behind?”

 

“I was not left behind,” Cassandra sits up straighter, turning a light glare on the other woman. “I chose not to go. There is a difference.”

 

“Oh, yes. Of course. Forgive me, Seeker. I understand; not enough bears to punch at the Winter Palace.” Hawke’s grinning, amused by how easily Cassandra’s getting riled up.

 

It’s infuriating.

 

“The Masquerade is foolish, Champion. You of all people must know this. Would you have chosen to attend?”

 

“Me? Never. Far too Orlesian.” Her nose wrinkles at the word. Cassandra’s sure she’s never hard anyone say it with so much disdain, before. It’s almost fascinating.

 

“I take it your Ferelden sensibilities never die.” Cassandra half grins, her mug lingering by her lips.

 

“They’ll die when I die. Which, let’s face it, is either a long shot for ever happening, at this rate, or is long overdue.” Hawke leans back in her chair, apparently not too worried about the odds.

 

“Surely you are always in danger, though.” Cassandra observes.

 

“Oh, sure. What’s life without a little danger? But look at the facts. I ‘ve escaped the Blight, killed an Arishok, and fended off the first person person possessed by red lyrium. I’ve got a mountain of good luck on my side, apparently.”

 

“You’re also one of the few to have defeated Coryphious, that we know of.” Cassandra tips her head.

 

Hawke frowns. “Wasn’t gonna mention that one. I… don’t count it as a victory, if I was the reason he got out in the first place. Couldn’t even really kill him. I mean I definitely killed him, but-”

 

“I understand,” Cassandra held up her hand. “It is still more then most can say.”

 

Hawke made a sound, somewhere between acknowledging and not-quite-agreeing, but said nothing, her eyes trained on Cassandra as the Seeker drained the last of her ale.

 

“So.” Hawke said when Cassandra set the mug down. “Is this really like… Your first break since the breach?”

 

Cassandra frowned. “I… supposed it is. There has been much to do. Many people to aide.”

 

“And no time for you to relax.”

 

“Well, no. But- Why are you looking at me like that?” Cassandra sat up straighter, trying not to flush as Hawke’s eyes swept over her, taking in every detail.

 

“Just thinking.” Hawke pulled the empty mug closer to herself, tracing the lip of it with a fingertip. “Do you always look so tense?”

 

“I am not tense.” It was a lie. It was a straight up, honest to Andraste lie. And by the look in Hawke’s eye, the champion more then knew it.

 

Yet she relented.

 

“Alright, alright. Not tense.” She stood, holding her hands up in surrender. “But you know, if you ever ARE tense, I know a trick or two. A good back rub does wonders.” She placed a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder, sliding it down along her spine slowly as she passed. “Up to you, though. Come by my quarters if you’re interested.”

 

She flashed a grin to the stunned Seeker and, just like that, was gone.

  
Silently, Cassandra sent a little prayer to the Maker as she watched the tavern door close behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> its almost 8 am and i haven't been able to sleep yet. How many of my stories involve a footnote like that? most of them
> 
> i was really just laying there listening to nigthvale and i had this idea for a smutty drabble. but it turnes out i can't get to the smut without a foothold of setup. go figure right? But also, there's not enough written for this pairing. I sought to correct that.
> 
> but seriously i needed to write this so bad that i didnt bother taking time to put on my glasses and turn on my computer. thank the maker my tablet connects to the only bluetooth keyboard i had in reach ok
> 
> anyways. Thank you for existing! More to come.
> 
> <3<3 Livv


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